


One Thing Leads to Another

by sordes



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Facials, Fluff, Heavy Petting, M/M, Masturbation Interruptus, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Sharing a Bed, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 18:05:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13195638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sordes/pseuds/sordes
Summary: Ignis tried to reason with himself, to pick out just one of the very many logical reasons why getting into the same bed as Gladio was a bad idea. But it was late, he was physically and emotionally spent, and the clinging wetness of his clothes begun to chill his core. His mind went fuzzy around the edges and for once in his life, Ignis stopped searching for the logical, stick-in-the-ass reason to say ‘no’ to something and just saidyes.The one in which Ignis and Gladio share a bed, Ignis runs a fever, things get carried away, and Ignis self-doubts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [accursedspatula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/accursedspatula).

The rain had started suddenly, taking them by surprise. Forecasts had neglected to mention near torrential levels of rainfall in the area, so when the storm clouds gathered and the sky all at once turned black and angry, the guys had honestly thought the Starscourge was upon them.

When the buckets of rain hit them, they were momentarily relieved. The three then hollered at Ignis to put up the goddamn top (Ignis had already pressed the button) and proceeded to dry themselves and the leather interior with the collection of Crow’s Nest napkins Ignis insisted on storing in all the seat pockets.

Even with the Regalia’s daemon-deterring headlights and more than capable wipers, continuing on in the downpour was foolish. Ignis pulled into the next rest stop when he saw the sign and the four quickly darted out as soon as the old girl was in park to secure some rooms for the night.

While they were successful in getting two rooms, only one had two beds. Noctis and Prompto quickly laid claim to that room, snatched the key from Ignis and were off, already calling dibs on who got the shower first. Ignis, his normally pert hair sopping wet and clinging to face, sighed and shook his head. _Joy_.

It’s not that he hated Gladiolus. Quite the opposite, really. Ignis had been harboring a crush on his cohort for years, but never had the gumption, or the confidence, or the time, or the courage, to pursue it. Over time the feelings of affection warped into some kind of cold disdain, and Ignis found himself acting like a child around him—expressing his love through hair pulling and name calling. As Gladio was ripped from head to foot, with picturesquely handsome features, Ignis had come to convince himself that he was merely attracted to Gladio due to his physical appearance. He hated himself for that shallowness, and hated Gladio for his seeming inability to show him anything deeper than “Hi, I’m Gladiolus and I have enormous muscles, a tight ass, and one hell of a smile” in all the years that he’d known him.

In traveling together, however, Ignis came to appreciate Gladio’s physicality as more than just eye candy. When the boulder of a man was blocking a possibly fatal blow with that ridiculously large sword of his, yeah, Ignis had certainly counted his lucky stars. Ignis even found an appreciation for Gladio’s directness, his lack of need for constant conversation or stimulation. He’d be content just to stare forward or out the window of the Regalia when both Noct and Prompto were fast asleep instead of forcing Ignis into awkward small-talk. But it always went back to Gladio’s looks. There was something about him, the way his full lips hung slightly apart, the way he’d rake a large hand of his through his long hair, how he insisted on romping around without a goddamn shirt on… The carnal attraction there was undeniable and Ignis hated himself for it. How could he be so shallow and so attracted to someone so vapid?

Luckily, Ignis was hardly ever alone with Gladio, as Noct and Prompto were often much appreciated buffers. But from time to time the group would split into pairs, Noct and Prompto always opting for each other, and Ignis would be stuck with the muscle.

They’d shared a motel room before, this wasn’t new. But a single bed? That was uncharted territory.

Ignis felt his heart skip a beat as he watched Gladio jog over through the dense curtain of rain, his hair and shirt clinging to his exposed skin, their travel bags tucked under both arms. This was going to be a very long, and very fraught, night.

Gladio followed Ignis to their room and they both quickly stepped into their dingy quarters, slamming the door shut behind them. Both were sopping wet and dripping onto the thin carpet, a dark puddle quickly growing beneath their feet. Ignis removed his glasses and, not immediately finding a shred of dry fabric on him, pulled out the hem of his tucked-in shirt and wiped the frames there. He replaced his glasses and took in the unholy sight before him, sighing tetchily.

When it came to Noct’s apartment back in Insomnia, or his own desk or the Regalia, Ignis was a taskmaster. Clutter, trash, both were unacceptable. Dust? No. A smear or fingerprint? Absolutely not. He demanded perfect organization and cleanliness above all else, especially out of his charge. Noctis was their future king, after all. How could he possibly rule a kingdom if he couldn’t keep his closet tidy?

He was too used to the cleanliness and polished nature of nearly all establishments in Insomnia. Outside of the wall, Ignis thought to himself darkly, people simply seemed to hold themselves to much lower standards.

Ignis gagged as he took in the limp blanket on the bed, the stain on one of the pillows, and the cracked and damaged mismatched furniture. His thoughts darkly turned to what the bathroom might look like and vomited a little in his mouth. Gladio, meanwhile, threw himself directly on top of the bed, the frame squeaking like it was in mortal pain under his weight.

“Finally, a normal goddamn bed!”

Gladio resembled (and smelled) like a nearly drowned shaggy dog as he kicked off his boots and laid back on the no doubt parasite infested bed, not giving a damn as he got it thoroughly wet.

Ignis frowned in disapproval, cycling through any and all of his other options to remove him from his current situation. The Regalia’s backseat _was_ surprisingly spacious, Ignis reasoned to himself, enough so that he could fit lying down, albeit rolled somewhat into a ball. And the sound of the rain drumming against the roof could actually be quite relaxing. Having an escape plan was good, smart. He mentally patted himself on the back.

 “I’ll wash up first then,” was all Ignis could manage as he shuffled into the cramped bathroom, turned on the light, and shut the door behind him. Besotted hair limp and dripping, glasses fogging up once more, his normally crisp attire was creased and sticking to his skin. Ignis struggled to peel off his wet jacket and wrung it out over the stained sink.

Grimacing, Ignis looked for a clean surface to set his damp jacket on, and finding none, opted to hang it over the (no doubt germ-covered) doorknob. Nose wrinkled, Ignis tore back the shower curtain to reveal the similarly stained and moldy tub.

“Ye Gods...”

Ignis brought a gloved hand to the hard-water-stained knob but thought better of it, drew his hand back and removed his glove. He had no qualms about scrubbing his hand raw afterwards, but had left his leather care kit in the Regalia.

Ignis returned his bare hand to the knob, winced and averted his gaze as he turned it to life. It resisted at first, whined against the impetus to turn, but finally gave in. A horrible rattling in the pipes came next, followed by a trickle of brown water from the spigot. Ignis retracted his contaminated hand, eyed the water with all the displeasure he could manage.

With his still gloved hand, he began to unbutton his dress shirt from top to bottom. It was difficult to do with one hand as the fabric insisted on drooping and clinging to his chest, but he managed to undo its front before returning his thoughts to the still-brown trickle of water before him.

Mouth firmly pressed into a thin line, Ignis cranked the knob more, increasing the water flow, thinking perhaps, foolishly, that the water would clear up with the added pressure. Deep down, he was hoping that fate wouldn’t deny him a hot and much deserved shower, praying that she was just testing his patience with this muddy spew. He was wrong, on both counts.

The water, if anything, grew darker in color and began to emit a foul odor. Disgusted, Ignis drew back. Rain be damned, he was going to storm over to the proprietor and give him an earful. Ignis grabbed his jacket from the doorknob, tore the door open and stormed back into the room.

Now, if not for the rattling pipes and the hissing torrent of hot, brown water, Ignis might have heard the very creaky bed creaking very loudly from the bathroom and made a more subtle reentry. But naturally because of the rattling pipes and the hissing torrent of hot, brown water, he missed the telltale sounds of another man jerking off just a few feet away and threw himself back into the room, incensed, affronted, and completely unprepared for what awaited him.

“I’m really going to lay into that no-good hustler—“ Ignis’ mouth hung open lamely when his gaze landed on Gladio. Sprawled atop the sad bed, shirt splayed open, washboard abs damp with rain or sweat—these were all normal sights when it came to being within a few hundred feet of Gladio at any time. But his amber eyes wide in shock, full lips agape, and a thick hand around the base of his even thicker and erect cock—now _that_ was scandalous. His black leather pants where shoved down, tight against his muscular thighs, because of course they were leather and they were wet, _good luck getting out of those_ , and just the sight of Gladio so languidly pleasuring himself, the guilty shine of precome on his dick, the way his underwear was barely pushed down far enough, the waistband digging into his full and tight balls—

Ignis shut his mouth. Backed up the precisely two steps he had taken into the room back into the bathroom and shut the door.

Ignis could hear the bed immediately creak and squeal under Gladio’s weight as he no doubt tucked himself back in and struggled to pull up his pants. Ignis just stood there, dumb with shock, on the other side of the door. He suddenly felt very much exposed himself, his dress shirt carelessly left unbuttoned. His nimble fingers darted to correct this, even doing the very topmost button.

Ignis could understand why Gladio would capitalize on the opportunity to get himself off. Privacy came at a premium, and Gladio reasonably would have believed that Ignis was tied up with the shower, therefore making the risk of exposure relatively low. Ignis’ heart was beating fast, out of embarrassment, he first reasoned, but after he shifted his weight, considering if it was safe to leave the moldy prison, he felt the fabric of his pants against his groin, cruelly tight, and knew there was another way to explain the flush on his cheeks. _Fuck_.

Ignis tried to clear his mind, to delete any image of Gladio lying prone and wanton and so willing, cock shamelessly in hand. He even considered dipping his head under the foul torrent of shower water, but stopped himself. No telling what kind of horrific bacterial infection he could pick up from this place.

Ignis took off his glasses, folded them up, and set them on the still unopened package of ‘lilac’ scented soap by the sink. He then brought his hands to his temples, massaged the skin there in quick, tight circles. While he may have resembled a mad man to the uninformed observer, Ignis always found the act helped alleviate stress and imbued him with a sense of calm. He’d like to picture the professional and spotless kitchen he sometimes made use of in the royal palace. The exquisitely maintained and polished stainless steel, the enormous gas range. The perfect sense of harmony and organization, everything in its place, efficiently and ergonomically planned out for the ideal kitchen experience.

But now, the only image that came to mind was Gladio, buck-naked, sprawled across the granite countertop, luridly smearing whipped cream across his bulging pecs and—

Ignis slapped himself hard. _Simmer the fuck down_.

But it was no use. Ignis couldn’t help but imagine how Gladio must’ve looked just seconds before he had burst through the door. Head hung back, panting, toes curling involuntarily as he stroked himself, caught up in the physical ecstasy of it all, determined to make himself come no matter what, forgetting the paper thin walls and the fact that his ‘very straight friend from work’ was an earshot away.

Ignis slapped himself again for good measure. He reached down to adjust himself, tucking his half-hard dick into the waistband of his sensible boxer-briefs to discourage it, and replaced his glasses. By now the room was thick with mist from the foul shower, so he wiped the foggy mirror with a hand and assessed the damage. His skin was a bit flushed from the heat, but not so much as it was a few minutes ago. He could do this. He was Ignis Stupeo Scientia and he wasn’t going to let his slut of a roommate break him. Ignis smoothed out his wilting pompadour, acknowledged that the smell from the water was really too much to take, so no, he couldn’t just hole up in the bathroom all night, turned off the shower and exited the bathroom.

Ignis left the bathroom door ajar behind him, an easy means of escape, but didn’t turn his head to look at Gladio.

“Are you decent?”

Gladio grumbled something indistinct in response. Ignis turned his head in his direction, saw the gorilla lying on his side, back to him. Semi-curled up, no doubt mid mental self-flagellation. Ignis considered just leaving at that point, he’d rather risk sleeping on the floor of Noct’s room or aggravating his back curled up in the Regalia than endure this awkwardness, but the very sudden and deafening thunder clap that came right after snuffed out those thoughts. Getting himself electrocuted would do no one (except maybe Gladio) any good.

Ignis let out a weary sigh, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It’s all very... natural.” Fuck, that’s not what he meant to say. He had wanted to break the tension, to let Gladio know that he didn’t really care (he totally did) that he just saw him beating his meat and that they never had to speak about it again. But it was late and the only thing Ignis wanted to do was curl up and be dead to the world for a few hours before they set out again bright and early in the morning.

Ignis cleared his throat. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, is all I mean. What’s shameful is the state of that shower.” He let out a stilted laugh. This wasn’t working. Gladio didn’t move, didn’t say a word. Ignis sighed once more. “Very well.”

Ignis walked over to the empty side of the bed, but instead of lowering himself down next to Gladio, to just close his eyes and pray sleep came quickly, he sunk down to the no doubt filthy carpet, wadded up his wet jacket under his head, and made his peace with the lumbar pain he would be experiencing tomorrow.

Finally Gladio sat up, bedframe and mattress squeaking under him, and he turned to see what the hell Ignis was doing. His cheeks were still flushed a hair, but a look of genuine concern flashed across his stupidly handsome features when he realized Ignis was on the un-vacuumed ground.

“Iggy, what the hell, just, no.”

Ignis, lying on his back, glared up at Gladio from the floor. “This is fine.” He laced his fingers together (one hand still missing its glove) across his stomach for emphasis.

Gladio frowned, scooted himself further onto the far side of the bed as if to prove there was plenty of room for two fully grown men. “It’s not. Okay, the bed’s a bit wet, I admit, but it’s not… just, damnit, Iggy.”

A flustered Gladio was not a sight one often got to see. It moved something in Ignis’ spite filled heart, despite himself.

“Whatever. Do what you want.” Gladio rolled over to face the opposite side of the room and, before Ignis could respond, turned off the lights, snuffing out both the conversation and the garish fluorescent lamps. Gladio settled in on his side, bed creaking all the while, and got comfortable, or at least as comfortable as one could get in a situation like this.

Ignis nodded to himself in the dark. This was what he wanted, yes. He removed his glasses, reached up to place them safely on the nightstand. Ignis returned his hands to his stomach, closed his eyes and waited for sleep. Only of course, it did not come. He readjusted himself, tried lying on his side but his hip was too bony, tried his stomach, but that was somehow worse. All the while the lewd imaginings of Gladio played through his mind, his own sick personal peep show.

After tossing and throwing himself about for what felt like hours, Gladio cleared his throat in the dark.

“You’re gonna fall through if you don’t cut that out, Iggy.”

Ignis froze, caught up in his futile search for refuge from the rock-hard floor and thoughts of Gladio’s hot body, it didn’t occur to him how loud or obvious his thrashing was.

“Apologies.” Ignis forced himself to settle in on his back and to lie still.

“You’ve been tossing for ten minutes straight. Stop torturing yourself and just…” Gladio huffed, “…just get in the bed.”

The marvelously husky tone Gladio’s voice took on when he pitched it low sent shivers down Ignis’ addled spine. The fact also that what had felt like hours accounted to only ten minutes just made his back hurt more. The thought of crawling into bed with Gladio, even just lying there back to back, ample room for Shiva in between, made his cheeks grow hot.

Ignis tried to reason with himself, to pick out just one of the very many logical reasons why getting into the same bed as Gladio was a bad idea. But it was late, he was physically and emotionally spent, and the clinging wetness of his clothes begun to chill his core. His mind went fuzzy around the edges and for once in his life, Ignis stopped searching for the logical, stick-in-the-ass reason to say ‘no’ to something and just said _yes_.

Non-verbally, of course.

Ignis brought himself up from the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. He could see Gladio tense up slightly as he felt Ignis’ weight on the shared mattress and heard the whiny creak from the frame, but his shoulders quickly relaxed. Relieved, probably, that he wouldn’t have to feel so guilty about things the next morning.

Ignis reached down into the dark and slipped off his shoes before reclining next to Gladio. He glanced over at Gladio’s backside, the details fuzzy without his glasses, but the slope of his shoulders and fall of his hips were still clear. He couldn’t quite make it out in the dark, but imagining Gladio’s firm ass, just inches away, made him swallow hard.

Ignis averted his gaze, closed his eyes, and tried once more to find sleep. The damp mattress was slightly more comfortable than the floor and its scratchy carpet, but only slightly. Before long Ignis could feel the warmth radiating from Gladio’s back on his side as if he were some portable heater. Ignis sighed despite himself as the warmth slowly penetrated his clammy skin. It felt good, and all at once reminded him that both men were still very much rain soaked and likely to feel pretty awful in the morning.

The logical part of Ignis’ brain kicked in once more. He would scold Noct for doing something so stupid, for not remembering the basics of the survival training he’d received from Cor and none other than Gladio. Gladio! Why didn’t he say anything either? Ignis’ mind was a flurry of reminders to chew him out later for it as he sat up, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Now what?” Gladio asked as he rolled over and got an eyeful of Ignis disrobing.

“It just dawned on me that I would like to avoid catching a cold,” Ignis said curtly as he peeled off his shirt. It took some effort to get the sleeves off of his pale arms, but he managed to yank off the garment with a wet _thwack_.

Ignis noticed that Gladio was staring, or at least he thought he was, so he clicked his tongue as he folded up his shirt neatly. “It’d suggest you do the same if you value your wellbeing.”

“Ignis...”

There were only two other times Ignis could recall Gladio calling him by his proper name instead of ‘Iggy’. One had been the day they were first introduced, practically as children. The would-be shield and the tutor-advisor-chamberlain. The second had been just a few months before their departure from Insomnia. Noct had chosen to display for once just how clever he could be, giving both of them the slip and cutting class to play hooky with Prompto. Ignis was furious with Noct for his irresponsibility, but Gladio was afraid. Ignis supposed being told from childhood that your duty was keeping the future king safe and then losing track of him would rightly be disturbing, but the exact look of anxiety and terror that marred his usually handsome features rattled something in Ignis. He could still hear the way Gladio had called out to him, voice raw with emotion, as they raced to meet up and compare notes to track Noct down.

The way that Gladio said his name this time was entirely different. Concerned, a bit curious, but still with that same husky quality that sent electricity coursing down Ignis’ spine.

Ignis looked back at him, their eyes locking in the dark. Ignis felt something inside of him shift, and suddenly all of his (pretty unjustified) hatred for the galoot next to him evaporated. He also realized just how he must look, a wanton strumpet offering himself up on a platter for the taking. Ignis opted to file this whole experience away in the ‘things to regret later’ folder of his memories and simply put his folded up shirt down on the bed. Goosebumps covered his bare shoulders and arms, a strand of his limp ashen hair hung down over one of his eyes. Ignis waited for Gladio to say something else, to get up and leave, to do anything.

The feeling of Gladio’s plush lips on his, wet but so warm and inviting, hit him before the sound of the creaky bed. Gladio had shot himself forward onto him, an arm firmly grasping Ignis’ right bicep, the other radiating heat, pressing hard into the mattress just by Ignis’ thigh. Gladio pressed his lips hard into Ignis’, squeezed his eyes shut. Ignis just stared, taken wholly by surprise, his entire body tense.

Gladio could likely feel Ignis was stiff as a board and lessened some of the intensity of the kiss. Ignis watched his brow furrow, upset? Confused? Gladio slowly opened his eyes, and Ignis could see the fear and questioning there. Before Ignis could finally reciprocate or offer the other man anything beyond dazed confusion, Gladio drew back, relinquished Ignis’ arm. He moved quick for a man of his size, launched himself forward, feet hitting the thin carpet hard.

“Did you finish earlier?”

Ignis’ normally deep and rich voice was thin, nearly a whisper from the cover of darkness, but it was enough to keep Gladio from bolting. Ignis scooted himself closer, hesitated for a moment, then put his bare hand on Gladio’s back. Despite the damp and clinging shirt, his back exuded warmth and Ignis relished in it, spreading out his fingers, pressing them into his flesh slightly. Gladio stole a glance back at him, his expression obscured in the gloom.

Not sensing resistance, Ignis scooted closer so that he was just behind Gladio. He brought his gloved hand to Gladio’s thigh. Its placement was high enough to matter, but not quite high enough to be final.

Ignis felt in that moment like the logical side of himself and the needy, primal side of himself, the part that acted on instinct, had split. The logical side was tied up, bound and gagged in the smelly bathroom, desperate for escape and to regain control as the animalistic side grappled for more and more. _Just push me off! Shove me away and storm out of here!,_ logical Ignis screamed internally at Gladio. But logical Ignis failed to make his point heard and Gladio stayed put.

Ignis swallowed, he could feel his tense muscles through his clothes. Gladio was just as on edge as he was. What the hell were they doing?

In the absence of logic, animalistic Ignis decided all at once to take control of the situation and press onward.

Ignis slipped his gloved hand over Gladio’s thigh and onto his (still?) hard dick. Ignis palmed him through the leather—there was no sense in doing things half-halfheartedly now. Though he couldn’t discern the finer points of Gladio’s dick through the thick material, the general size and heft of it were clear.

Ignis leaned in closer, his lips met Gladio’s ear. “Is this old or new?”

Gladio shivered at the sensation of Ignis’ breath on his ear and neck. Though his shoulders were still tense, he leaned back a touch, opened his legs to give Ignis easier access.

“A bit of both,” he grunted as Ignis took advantage of the new position, working his hand all over Gladio’s yet contained dick.

Ignis felt a jolt in his own groin, an affirmation he didn’t know he needed until now. Emboldened, he pushed himself off the bed.

“Take those off. Unless…” Ignis stood before Gladio at the foot of the bed. The point of no return. He almost laughed at the way Gladio fumbled for the zipper in the dark and struggled to push down the tight leather. Much like before Ignis could tell they were caught around his thighs. He eased himself onto the floor, kneeling between Gladio’s spread legs. In a swift motion he tugged the material down further to Gladio’s knees leaving him just in his underwear.

Gladio propped himself with his elbows to take in the sight of Ignis before him. Ignis gazed back at him, peeled off his remaining glove slowly and set it down on the bed. Ignis anchored one hand on Gladio’s inner thigh and brought the other over his half-hard dick, only a thin layer of fabric separating skin from skin. Gladio tipped his head back, let out the sweetest moan Ignis had ever heard. Craving more of a response, Ignis dipped his head in close, nuzzled the base of his cock with his cheek and breathed in Gladio’s smell. Surprising no one, he smelled of leather, sweat, a bit musky from his previous misadventure, but there was something intoxicating and wholly masculine about it.

“Were you thinking of me, before?” Ignis mumbled into the side of Gladio’s dick. It was like logical Ignis was still trapped in the bathroom, hearing this lewd imposter take control of him and say these horribly embarrassing and scandalous things. There was _no way_ he was fantasizing about him, why the hell had he asked that? He wanted to slam his head in between the toilet seat and bowl and just end the misery—

“Yeah.” Gladio looked down at him, that same slack jawed expression from just a short while ago, his eyes dark and hungry. Ignis’ eyes darted up and caught every detail. The combination of Gladio’s voice, his gaze, and his scent made Ignis’ mind go white and fuzzy. There was only the feeling of Gladio, hard in his hand, the heat from his thighs (which made him feel overwhelmingly hot, as if he were in a furnace), the musky scent. The anchor points keeping Ignis from going slack jawed and stupid himself.

Which was good, because one, it kept Ignis from drooling and truly making an undignified mess of himself, and two, it kept Ignis from dwelling on how he really had no idea what the hell he was doing. Logic was screaming from the bathroom, “TURN BACK, ABORT, ABORT!” but the red light warnings were muted in Ignis’ hazy mind. He’d never done this before, and no one had ever done this to him, and Ignis wasn’t really one who was comfy navigating uncharted waters without some kind of plan laid out before him.

Not quite sure what to do next, Ignis moved his palm up Gladio’s length till his fingers reached the waistband of his underwear. Gladio eagerly raised his hips for Ignis’ to tug them down to his knees. Amongst a tight cluster of dark curls, Gladio’s cock sprang free of its confines.

Ignis tentatively brought a hand to Gladio’s length, startled by how hot it was. Gladio tipped his head back and groaned, finally getting the contact he had no doubt been craving. Ignis gave Gladio a few strokes with his hand, the way he normally touched himself, squeezing his fingers and running his thumb over the head of Gladio’s cock. There was slick oozing from the tip, Ignis wicking it away with the pad of his thumb, smearing it down Gladio’s shaft, feeling his cock stiffen in his hand, fully erect but not yet fully hard.

Gladio was big, not in a disproportionate way, but rather in line with the rest of him, and Ignis would definitely put big at the top of his list of descriptors for Gladio. All of him was large, from his towering stature to his broad shoulders, his thick arms and barrel chest, to the long, muscular thighs currently framing Ignis. Ignis himself was tall, half a head over Noctis and most others he knew, and Gladio made him feel like a twig most times. It was really only fitting that his dick matched the rest of the package.

His left hand was perched on the top of Gladio’s right thigh, Ignis’ thumb rubbing small nervous circles into the skin there, noting the fine dusting of black hairs that trailed off midway up Gladio’s thighs. The rest of him was well groomed, too, waxed or shaved, and Ignis had noticed that Gladio’s entire upper body was strangely hairless, having overheard him mention to Prompto once offhandedly that he’d had it all lasered off to make room for his tattoo. He wondered if maybe he had intended to continue it further southward to cull the dark coils of hair around his cock, but ran out of time before their departure. Ignis didn’t mind it, though, its rugged appearance and scent only reminded him further than he was with a man, his deepest desire a reality.

Ignis dipped in close, kissed and nipped at Gladio’s inner thighs, worked his way higher until he was at the delicate skin of his balls. They were taut and close to his body, a dead giveaway that Gladio was on edge, although Ignis didn’t have much of a metric to base that on, outside of his own body and a handful of porn videos. Aside from Gladio’s noticeable arousal, Ignis also noted that Gladio appeared to only have one testicle. From the faint scar trailing over his scrotum and across his inner left thigh, Ignis surmised he must’ve lost it in a training accident. It didn’t seem to bother Gladio, though, as the equipment all seemed to work fine regardless.

It took Ignis a moment to steel himself, but he carefully slipped his tongue out, tracing it over the length of the scar on Gladio’s thigh to the swell of his ball to the base of his cock. Gladio tasted like salt and bitters, nothing offensive, a completely nonchalant taste for what a monumental experience this was to Ignis. Here he was, so far in uncharted waters he was drowning, heart hammering in his ears, squeezing Gladio’s thigh to stop his hand from shaking.

Whatever he’d done, Gladio didn’t seem to mind, so apparently Ignis had gotten something right. _Just imagine what you’d like_ , a tiny voice in his head reminded him, and Ignis realized he didn’t even know what he would like. He felt that little wave of shame rise up again, lapping at him, reminding him that he was twenty-three and still a hapless virgin, now on his knees about to service a man who was essentially just a coworker.

But, true to character, he would give it his all, he just hoped that Gladio didn’t catch on that it was his first time.

Ignis decided to stop wasting time, pressing his lips to the side of Gladio’s cock, letting his tongue slip through them to taste him again. Gladio seemed to really like that, moaning low, his eyes falling shut for a brief moment. Emboldened, Ignis just went for it, licking a fat stripe up Gladio’s cock before flicking his tongue at the head, the bitter taste of Gladio’s precome hitting him, and while it wasn’t awful, it certainly wasn’t the best thing Ignis had tasted. But if Gladio kept moaning like he did, well, then, the taste was certainly worth it.

Ignis swirled his tongue around the tip, surprised at just how much precome was already oozing out. He closed his eyes, tried to remember those frivolous articles he’d skimmed through only because he was caught up in a dentist’s waiting room one time while Noct was getting his teeth cleaned. It wasn’t as if he’d gone out and bought the issue later, no, of course not. Eyes shut tightly, Ignis relied on the little (and not so little) cues from Gladio that he was on the right track, the sharp intakes of breath, the little groans, the sudden tightening of muscle, all his little indicators that Gladio _liked_ what he was doing. Emboldened, Ignis slipped his lips over the tip of Gladio’s cock and was thanked by the slight bucking of Gladio’s hips. Ignis pressed his hands down on Gladio’s thighs to keep him still. Vomiting all over him would be a terrible way to end things, after all.

Still, feeling brave and encouraged, Ignis lowered his head in an attempt to swallow more of Gladio’s cock. It was fine for the first inch or so, until Ignis realized just how goddamn thick Gladio was. For something that looked so easy to do, and for all intents and purposes was easy to do, taking a big dick all the way in his mouth was fucking hard. Ignis could feel Gladio strain underneath his grip when his teeth grazed the sensitive skin; Ignis slackened his jaw and (if it were possible) felt his cheeks grow hotter as a mixture of his own saliva and Gladio’s come dribbled down his lower lip.

Ignis couldn’t help but feel a mixture of shame and power as he took Gladio deeper in his mouth, drooling like a fool, making a mess of the no doubt already filthy carpet. The little whiny and needy sounds accumulating in Gladio’s throat were to die for, and the fact that Ignis was the impetus behind them made his own cock stiffen in his pants. Conversely, the thought of himself slack jawed, debauched, and desperate made his skin crawl. As much as he was technically in control of this erotic encounter, playing with Gladio like he was putty in his hands, it was hard to reconcile that with the strain on his jaw and sweat beading at his hairline from being down trapped between Gladio’s thighs. He knew his face must be a deep red, and he felt so overheated he had to blink away the little stars that were appearing in his vision.

But in that exact moment, the way Gladio could barely keep himself from bucking up then and there and fucking Ignis’ mouth senseless, shoved those shameful feelings away for the time being. Ignis dug his fingers into Gladio’s thighs to tell him to he needed to calm down.

Always the competitive one, Ignis was determined to take his entire length, but fuck, it just didn’t end. Finally it was too much to take and Ignis pulled back suddenly, coughing, a thread of spit (or precome) hanging between his wet lips and the tip of Gladio’s cock for a moment until it snapped. Ignis covered his mouth with the back of his hand, coughed into it. At least Gladio didn’t laugh as he watched, perched up on his forearms.

Cheeks ruddy from exertion and embarrassment, Ignis quickly nudged his face back into the base of Gladio’s cock to obscure himself. He licked at the base, lapping up the mixture of wetness there. He dragged his tongue from root to tip, took the head back in his mouth and brought a hand to firmly grip the base of Gladio’s cock.

Ignis struggled to get his mouth and hand working together, the rhythm not quite right, but he opened his eyes to watch Gladio’s reaction, to see every little shift in his brows, how his lips curled up, and readjusted his hand or mouth as needed. Ignis carried on in this fashion for a time, readjusting and modifying his pressure, speed, and depth in time with Gladio’s groans and the involuntary clenching of his muscles, especially as his thighs tried to squeeze Ignis between them.

It was about that time when Ignis decided that he was good at giving a blowjob, his previous shame all but forgotten and replaced with a sense of pride. He could make one of the most physically imposing men he’d ever met in his life melt in his hands. But still, he couldn’t help but wonder what it might feel like to be on the receiving side, to melt under Gladio’s touch…

Gladio suddenly sat up, brought a thick, calloused hand to the back of Ignis’ neck. Not quite the touch Ignis was thinking of, but an acknowledgement of his work, an encouragement. Gladio pressed his hand into Ignis’ skin, pushed him down gently, but firmly, onto his cock.

“Iggy, please.” The words were thick in Gladio’s throat. Ignis let himself be pushed down further, slackened his jaw to accommodate him. With a hand in his hair, Gladio guided Ignis’ head up and down his length. Ignis gagged a little, but not enough for Gladio to relent. Ignis moved his one hand back to Gladio’s thigh, gripped him hard to anchor himself. Gladio’s head rocked back, and he bucked his hips in time with his working of Ignis’ mouth.

Ignis’ mind spun, the lewd, wet sounds, the slightly bitter taste, and the overwhelming scent and heat from Gladio—it was almost too much to take. He gripped Gladio’s thighs harder to keep himself upright, his balance seeming to be harder and harder to maintain despite being on his knees.

It really became too much to take when Gladio suddenly stood up, his cock still firmly implanted in Ignis’ mouth. Momentarily alarmed, it was all Ignis could do to grip Gladio’s thighs for support and back up on his knees a tad to accommodate the new position and angle. Now Gladio held Ignis’ head in place and bobbed his hips into his mouth.

It was overwhelming. Gladio bearing down on him, the scratchy carpet digging into his knees, the mixture of drool and come dripping down his chin. Ignis managed to glance upwards only to lock eyes with Gladio, sweat prickling his brow, his face contorted, lost in sensory overload. Ignis moved his hands up and around to Gladio’s ass, squeezed the musculature there, wondered what it would be like to experience them from another direction.

Gladio widened his stance a touch, and judging from a shudder in his thighs and ass Ignis thought he was close. Both his palms and Gladio’s ass coated in sweat, Ignis’ grip shifted suddenly with a particularly deep thrust, and a finger found the tight ring of muscle around his asshole. Ignis pressed his finger against it, eliciting a heady groan from Gladio.

Ignis squeezed Gladio’s ass hard, and as hot as it was to have Gladio literally lose himself in his mouth, Ignis was beginning to realize that all the actors he’d seen in porn had very, very good lung capacity… Something he did not.

Ignis tapped on Gladio’s ass for some relief just as Gladio drew back. Ignis moved his head back further to get a breath of air, but just as Gladio’s cock was nearly out of his mouth, Gladio came. Ignis could feel his length twitch as hot come spurted into his mouth, and as he continued to pull his head back, his lips and chin. Taken entirely by surprise, Ignis let go of Gladio and brought his hands near his face, perhaps in a last ditch effort to shield himself from the perceived degradation, but it was too little too late.

Gladio had his head tossed back, groaned as he rode out the sensation, his grip tight on the back of Ignis’ neck. All at once it seemed too much for him to take and he let go of Ignis as he toppled back onto the bed, a sweaty, tangled mess of clothes and sticky wetness, completely spent.

Ignis just hung back on his knees, still in shock. He brought a hand to his lower lip and wiped some of Gladio’s come off, could feel some trailing down his neck and on his chest. His eyes drank in the sight of Gladio sprawled before him, his massive cock softening, the sweaty sheen across his abs, the way he covered his eyes with a forearm, tried like mad to catch his breath.

Neither of them said anything.

Ignis shifted slightly, in part to remind Gladio that he was still there, and also to alleviate some of the pressure on his own arousal. He wondered if he should continue his bold behavior, if he should climb up and kiss Gladio, or if Gladio wouldn’t like being affronted with the taste of himself. He couldn’t just kneel there all night long, but Gladio made no move to get up, despite having caught his breath and his cock now being soft.

Ignis cleared his throat, parted his red and very hardworking lips. “Gladio, I—”

The resounding series of knocks at the door snapped both Ignis and Gladio to attention. Gladio pushed himself up so he was resting on his forearms and blinked at Ignis, like he was still caught in a post-orgasmic haze. _Useless!_

The knocking continued and was quickly joined by the muffled cries from what sounded like Noctis on the other side of the door.

“One moment!” Ignis called out, finding his voice. He scrambled to his feet to get the door, stumbling slightly as his vision spun, but Gladio sprung off the edge of the bed first and caught his arm.

“Iggy—wait—“

“Put yourself away, what are you doing?” Ignis tried to yank his arm free.

“You’ve, ah, just, let me.” Gladio removed his grip and brought his hand to Ignis’ chin. He swiped his thumb across Ignis’ lower lip, then used his index finger to wipe across his jaw. Ignis balked at the collection of come Gladio had managed to gather with just a cursory cleaning.

Ignis shoved Gladio back by the shoulders, and not in an entirely playful way.

“Been saving up?” Ignis hissed. The knocking continued, Noct’s muffled cries unceasing. “Get the door!”

If Ignis weren’t so frantic to extricate himself from being caught with come on his face, something in his heart might have been tugged at the hurt expression on Gladio’s face, but he didn’t have time to worry about that now. Noct needed something and Ignis was in no position to be seen by him.

Gladio yanked up his still very much wet and bunched up underwear and pants from his knees and pushed past Ignis to go to the door. Just before Gladio could open it, Ignis dashed into the godforsaken bathroom and swiftly closed the door behind him.

Breathing hard, Ignis stood back up against the door, straining to hear the conversation going down just feet away. Noctis and Gladio’s voices were muffled by the surprisingly thick piece of wood separating them from him—probably the only sturdy thing in the janky room, he mused to himself. Before long there were two polite knocks on the very door Ignis was leaning up against. He blanched.

“Yes…?” Ignis hoped they could hear him clearly on the other side and he wouldn’t be forced to open the door. He caught a quick glimpse of himself in the mirror—hair wild, shirt and gloves nowhere to be found, but more egregiously, the trail of drying come on his neck and chest. He swallowed hard.

“Iggy, uh, Noct needs a towel.” Gladio’s voice was stilted on the other side of the door, quite literally caught between a rock and a hard place.

“Oh. Right.”

Ignis grabbed one of the threadbare towels from the towel rack at his side. It was ancient, the signs of dry rot all over it. While it pained him to give Noctis such a sad excuse for a towel, his more immediate desire was to hand it over and get him the hell out of their room, lest they be discovered.

Ignis carefully opened the door a crack, then jutted the towel out into the main room for one of them to grab it. As soon as he felt someone had, he let go and shut the door firmly.

“You okay in there, Specs?”

Ignis’ heart leapt at the concern in Noctis’ voice as a pit in his stomach formed. _Don’t be like me, Noctis_.

“Fine, I just—something I ate didn’t agree with me, I’m afraid.” Now that he said something to the effect out loud, he had to admit he was feeling a bit lousy, like Gladio’s stifling heat was clinging to him despite their physical separation. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest but attributed it merely to the implausible situation he found himself in, nothing more.

Noctis said something in response but Ignis couldn’t make it out through the door. He could hear the main door to their room open and close, Gladio likely herding Noct out and away from the bathroom. Ignis sighed in relief, then caught his reflection once more in the dirty mirror and felt a new sense of debauched shame.

Things had moved so quickly, like he hardly had control over himself. Gladio had gone along with it, had certainly _seemed_ to enjoy himself, but the evidence of their time together so plainly visible to Ignis sent a cold wave of unease over him. What the hell would he say to Gladio when he inevitably had to leave the bathroom? What the hell would Gladio say to him?

It couldn’t be all bad, surely, Ignis tried to persuade himself. After all, Gladio had wanted him, and he, despite his complete lack of experience, had given Gladio the sexual gratification he desired. Gladio had even admitted that he was thinking of Ignis during his solo venture—the realization made Ignis’ cheeks go hot.

But what felt so uncomplicated and animalistic just minutes ago now felt impossibly complex and _wrong_. Like they were making a grave mistake, blending personal and professional lives and responsibilities. But really, who were Ignis and Gladio aside from their duties? Did that line of reasoning even have a leg to stand on?

Ignis shook his head. He shouldn’t get wrapped up questioning, no, that would get him nowhere. Besides, his head felt foggy and stuffy and the nearly dried splotches of come on his neck and chest were starting to agitate the skin. He could hardly speculate endlessly on his relationship post blowjob with Gladio when his skin itched so.

He considered dousing himself in boiling water from the shower, foul odor and color be damned, but opted for the slightly less noxious water from the sink to clean himself off. Ignis washed his face, neck, brought handfuls of the hot water to his shoulders and chest, determined to wipe off every last bit of Gladio. As he washed up a pit continued to grow in his stomach, unable to keep himself from mulling over the past fifteen minutes.

Ignis had been content to shove his feelings towards Gladio away to the back of his mind. But now that he had been given a taste of what it was like to act out on those feelings, to possibly even have them returned, Ignis wasn’t sure if he would be able to continue to ignore them.

Ignis shut off the tap. He realized he hadn’t considered Gladio’s feelings on the matter, aside from his sexual gratification. Ignis dragged a dripping hand over his face. Gladio was horny, Ignis was willing and offering—it was nothing more than that. Aside from the kiss, which Ignis was kicking himself for not adequately returning, the whole encounter felt oddly impersonal. Ignis caught a glimpse of his reflection once more, his eyes bloodshot and skin sallow. He didn’t look good, no post-orgasm glow here.

Ignis couldn’t hold it against Gladio. It wasn’t as if he had come clean about the torch he’d been carrying for who knows how long. No, and Ignis was quite sure that now, it was something he could never reveal.

Ignis sighed, reached for one of the other towels hanging from the rack and patted his face and chest dry. At least he had gotten a taste of the good life, he told himself. At least he had that.

After draping the used towel over the bar, Ignis braced himself for what he could put off no longer, and stepped out of the bathroom.

The room was dark still, and Ignis’ eyes took a few moments to adjust. There was no sign Noct had been there, no matter how brief, though Ignis double-checked the door was indeed locked to avoid any further complications. He then turned back to where the single bed was and made out Gladio’s hulking form lying there.

Ignis paused and watched Gladio for a time as his eyes fully adjusted to the gloom. Gladio was lying on his side, back turned to him, but he could make out his chest rising and falling deeply, and before long he could hear his steady, even breathing. It didn’t surprise Ignis to find him out like a light, given his previous vigor, but with any (slight though they may be) hopes of exiting to find Gladio ready for a continuation of their encounter dashed, Ignis couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of disappointment.

_Looks like you’ll never know what it feels like to have his mouth around you._ Ignis crossed his arms, a futile attempt to protect himself from his intrusive thoughts. The action also did little to warm him, as a chill crept into his skin and bones. Though the new sensation of cold was a welcome reprieve from the coursing heat that had been assaulting him up to now, it certainly didn’t help his feelings of abandonment.

Ignis quietly walked over to his side of the bed and carefully eased himself onto it, so as not to wake Gladio. He positioned himself on his side, his back to Gladio’s, and closed his eyes. Soon enough the heat radiating from Gladio hit him, and he relaxed slightly as it warmed his core.

This was enough. This had to be enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by [accursedspatula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/accursedspatula).

Ignis awoke the next morning, feeling like a boulder had been laid onto his chest. He cracked open his sleep caked eyes and found Gladio passed out next to him on his stomach, forehead pressed into his shoulder and his right arm draped across his chest. _Oh._

The events of the night before came rushing back to Ignis, and he jumped to trying to figure out how he could extricate himself from Gladio’s pseudo embrace without waking him. As much as this ‘once in a lifetime’ sight of waking up with Gladio next to him made something in Ignis’ chest stir, the fear of Gladio waking up and reacting negatively to the arrangement positively terrified him. He was also desperate to get free because Gladio was a million fucking degrees. It was pleasant when there was a comfortable distance between their bodies, but mashed up together like this? It was absolutely stifling. Ignis could feel already sweat gathering on the back of his neck and under his arms.

Ignis carefully brought both of his hands to Gladio’s massive arm and gently lifted it up as he shimmied his hips and legs towards the edge of the bed. Just as his left foot found the carpet below, he felt Gladio stir beside him.

Ignis froze, hoping Gladio would just roll over in his sleep, but he yawned into Ignis’ arm instead, and his once deep, even breaths, became lighter as he woke. Ignis shot a glance down at him as Gladio pulled back his head, his eyes still drowsy.

“Morning.” Gladio’s voice was thick with sleep, perfectly casual.

Ignis realized he was still holding Gladio’s arm suspended above him, and gingerly lowered it.

A meager “hi” was all Ignis could manage in return, throat dry and hoarse.

Gladio just stared up at him for what felt like an eternity, and Ignis, too afraid to move or do or say anything just stared back. He watched as Gladio’s eyes seemed to brighten as he continued to wake up, blinking away the sleep, practically batting his long, dark lashes.

Gladio parted his full lips and Ignis braced himself for the worst.

“You look like shit, Iggy.” Voice gravely with sleep, Gladio drew back this arm across Ignis’ chest. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with a loosely curled fist and yawned.

It took Ignis a few seconds to process the insult before he recoiled, drawing away from Gladio. Mind spinning, he had little time to think of a fitting retort before Gladio pulled him back down.

“What—”

Ignis’ words were cut off as Gladio leaned his face close to his… Bringing his cheek chastely to Ignis’ forehead. Ignis went rigid, as if he were playing dead. Gladio’s heat was almost overwhelming, and being so close he could _smell_ him and feel the gentle scratch from his stubble. Gladio tsk’d above him.

“You’re burning up.” Gladio pulled himself back and sat up languidly, stretching his arms overhead, the combined actions eliciting a prolonged squeal from the bed beneath them. “Guess you were right,” he looked down at Ignis, still lying there rigid, a bit sheepishly, “first rule of survival: don’t stay in wet clothes.”

Ignis’ head was swimming. He didn’t feel too great, sure, but he chalked that up to the fitful night of sleep and the shock of waking up so intimately close to Gladio.

“There’s some potions in the Regalia,” Ignis replied dryly.

Gladio clapped his hand to Ignis’ forehead suddenly. He nodded his head ‘no’ after a few seconds. “Don’t think a potion’s gonna do anything for a temperature this high.” Gladio pulled back his hand back and eased himself off the bed. “I’ll tell the others.”

Ignis pushed himself up onto his forearms. “Tell them what, exactly?”

Gladio blinked at Ignis, genuinely perplexed. “That you’re sick. We’ll take another day so you can rest up.” He scooped up his discarded boots and shoved them on, one foot at a time, leaning against the wall for balance.

Ignis gaped. “I’m completely fine.”

“You’re not.” Gladio frowned back at him. “Look, just lie back, take a load off for once, okay? You’re always doing shit for the rest of us, so let us do something for you.”

Ignis was about to protest, but Gladio rapped his knuckles lightly on the wall, cutting him off. “I’m gonna relay Noct and Prompto the plan, be back in a minute.”

“Gladio, wait.” Ignis pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I need to know. Did _that_ happen last night?”

Gladio cocked his head slightly to the side. “Uh?”

Ignis let out a sigh of relief. _So it_ was _a dream. Thank the fucking Six._

He laid himself back on the bed, but now Gladio was curious.

“What’re you talking about? Iggy.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Iggy…” Gladio took a few heavy steps toward Ignis and slotted his feet on either side of Ignis’. “C’mon now, don’t tease.”

“I told you, it’s nothing,” Ignis asserted, conjuring the most displeased expression he could.

Gladio grinned darkly at him, then pressed one of his legs between Ignis’. Ignis shot up like Gladio had passed thousand volts of electricity through him, the gesture _entirely_ too familiar, and he began to doubt everything. _Fine, fever be damned._

“Did I give you a blowjob last night?”

Gladio’s brows screwed together in confusion. “Yes?”

Ignis blinked up at Gladio, his mouth wide in surprise. Gladio just looked down at him, perfectly calm but questioning, and Ignis’ mouth drew into a tight line. “Oh.”

Gladio backed off. “Yeah…” he dragged out the final syllable as he moved to the door, “stay put. Everything’s gonna be okay, Iggy.”

Gladio was gone before Ignis could get another word in edgewise, disappeared behind the corner and out the door.  

Ignis’ head was spinning. That actually happened—sweet Bahamut, that had _actually_ happened. Bafflingly, Ignis had given Gladio the plausible out, the option to deny it, to reject it. But he didn’t. _Okay…?_

Ignis gave himself a gentle swat across the face. _Focus. Prioritize. Work through this._ With Gladio gone for the moment, the only thing Ignis could sort through was his apparent fever. _Right._

Sure, he felt hot, head a bit fuzzy, but it’s not as if he hadn’t powered through a cold in the past. Worst-case scenario he’d have to ask Noct to drive that day as he recouped in the back seat. There was no need to waste another day in this dump, especially as the rain had already delayed them. Ignis couldn’t comprehend why Gladio was so intent on it, though, and how he could be so casual about everything.

Ignis shook his head. Gladio was overacting, clearly; he was _fine_. Ignis pushed himself up to his feet, determined to get dressed and prevent Gladio from handing over any more gil to the motel’s proprietor for an additional night, and then… he wasn’t sure. Bribe him into silence? Demand they never spoke about his indiscretion again? He could figure it out later. Ignis shuffled over to his duffel bag on the floor, but as he bent down to unzip it, everything began to spin. Ignis caught himself before he could fall, arm braced against the wall.

Okay, maybe Gladio did have a point.

Before Ignis could set himself upright, he heard the door open and shut, accompanied by Gladio’s heavy footsteps. “Iggy, I told you to stay put.” Exasperated, Gladio gathered Ignis up and helped him back over to the bed, eased him down and onto his back.

“I can sleep it off in the backseat, really,” Ignis protested. Already red from his fever, his face turned further crimson as Gladio’s hands found his belt and swiftly undid it. “Gladio!”

Ignis tried to wriggle away from him, but Gladio was too quick. After smartly undoing the button and zip to his pants, Gladio yanked them down Ignis’ legs in one swift motion. “Just trust me,” he said as he wadded up Ignis’ pants and discarded them on the ground.

Ignis balked and made a futile attempt to cover himself from Gladio’s eyes. Maybe it was silly, given the fact that he’d sucked Gladio off mere hours before, but he felt so exposed, violated even. Fever be damned, Ignis was sure he was lucid enough to smack Gladio should he dare come close again.

To his great surprise, however, instead of forcibly tucking him in or making him swallow some arcane homemade remedy, Gladio slipped off his shirt and let it fall to the ground. He began working on his pants, shoving them down his muscular thighs one leg at a time, as Ignis balked from the bed.

“What are you doing?”

Gladio shrugged as he kicked off the black leather, wearing just boxer-briefs. “Something I learned in my training days. It’ll bring down your fever.”

Ignis blinked back at him. “And it involves you being nearly naked?”

“How else are you gonna sweat out your fever?”

Ignis lowered his head into the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. This was a dream, a fever dream. It had to be. Ignis looked down to the foot of the bed and confirmed that yes, Gladio was half naked and standing there, watching him. Ignis brought his head back to the pillow. He considered pinching himself to induce wakefulness, but as he felt the mattress dip and heard it squeak under Gladio’s weight, he set that thought aside. Might as well see where this goes, he supposed.

Gladio crawled up next to Ignis on his hands and knees, then lowered himself down on his left side, facing him. Gladio lifted Ignis’ right arm and slotted himself up against him, skin on skin. Gladio gently maneuvered Ignis’ arm around his back, then draped his right arm across Ignis’ chest. He nestled his face into the crook of Ignis’ neck, his stubble scratching lightly against Ignis’ skin.

Though Ignis was pliable under Gladio’s touch and let himself be maneuvered, his mind was racing and heart was beating at a mile a minute. This had to be a dream. There was no way this could possibly be happening.

The longer that they lie there together, though, the more Ignis relaxed. Lulled by Gladio’s steady breathing, the slightly ticklish feeling from Gladio’s stubble rubbing against his skin. Ignis’ eyelids began to droop, and before long it was all he could do to keep them open.

It started small and lightly. Movements so subtle, so seemingly innocuous, that Ignis hardly noticed them. The gentle brush from Gladio’s stubble in a lazy circle, almost as if he was nuzzling his chest. The way Gladio’s fingertips ghosted up and down Ignis’ bicep. The brief presses of Gladio’s soft lips against his collarbone and neck.

Drowsily, Ignis cracked open and eye and looked down to find Gladio staring back up at him, lips slightly apart. Ignis could feel his warm breath on his neck and couldn’t help the needy, confused whine that escaped his throat. He had no idea what Gladio was trying to do, what his end goal was. He only knew that the feeling of him being so close pressed against him was sensory overload in every sense of the term, and yet much better than he had ever imagined it being.

Gladio dropped his gaze as he moved in closer, his lips finding the soft skin below Ignis’ right ear. He placed a kiss there, soft and gentle, not too wet. Gladio lingered there for a moment, perhaps waiting for Ignis to shove him off or protest, but meeting no resistance, he moved slightly higher and licked up the shell of Ignis’ ear. Ignis involuntarily keened at the sensation, arching his back slightly and pressing his chest against Gladio’s. Head swimming with fever and arousal, Ignis didn’t care anymore what Gladio’s angle was, he just wanted him to continue.

After tracing the tip of his tongue back down Ignis’ ear to the lobe, Gladio shifted back to Ignis’ neck and left a hot trail across it and over his Adam’s apple as he pushed himself up and over Ignis’ legs so he was on top of him. Knees pressing into the mattress on either side of Ignis, a powerful hand slotted on either side of his shoulders. Gladio left a final kiss on the underside of Ignis’ jaw then pulled back, looking down at him.

“What are you doing?” Ignis barely breathed his words, eyes locked onto Gladio’s, he felt himself being drawn in. Even if it was just a fever dream, Ignis found himself bringing his hands to Gladio’s arms, grasping for an anchor to something real and physical.

“What does it look like?” His voice was low and gravelly but easy, as if he were totally in control. Not in an authoritative way, however, but in a way that felt comfortably possessive to Ignis. He surprised himself then at how easy it felt, lying underneath Gladio. He could attribute it to the fever, to being tired, to being fed up with being lonely, but that didn’t change how simple and natural the arrangement felt.

Gladio lowered himself once more and brought his lips back to Ignis’ neck. Ignis squirmed under the attention as Gladio dragged his soft lips across his skin and felt the point of his tongue trace a wet line down to his collarbone. There, Gladio peppered in a series of soft bites along with the wet kisses, dipping his head lower and gradually backing himself up down Ignis’ body.

Ignis’ palms, hot against Gladio’s already burning skin, slid down Gladio’s tattooed arms as he moved away. Dimly, he thought of grabbing hold, of preventing Gladio from slipping out of reach, but the cacophony of wet sounds from his lips and the little nips at his skin were too distracting. Ignis instead brought the back of his hand to cover his mouth to stifle the string of needy moans he’d been letting out.

He caught Gladio looking up at him as licked a stripe back up Ignis’ chest and veered to the right, swirling his tongue around Ignis’ nipple. Ignis gasped at the heat of Gladio’s hand when it found his side and steadily moved up his torso. Gladio’s fingers found Ignis’ other nipple and tweaked it idly.

Ignis found himself biting into the back of his hand, teeth worrying the thin skin there, eyes squeezed shut. The next thing he knew, he could feel Gladio pull Ignis’ hand away from his mouth and slotted his lips over his instead.

Soft and slow, completely unhurried, this kiss was completely different from the brief one they’d shared the night before.

Ignis was sure this really must be a fever dream as he couldn’t remember a time in his life where things had been so dreamily slow and he was so unrushed by some looming deadline or important task at hand. Gladio cupped Ignis’ jaw, a calloused thumb rubbing his chin, coaxing his mouth open. Ignis complied, parting his lips and felt Gladio’s tongue, hot and wet, slip inside. One of Ignis’ hands somehow found the back of Gladio’s head and he gathered a handful of his long hair, holding it firmly but not tight, a tether back to reality.

When their lips parted Gladio continued his crusade south, leaving a trail of kisses down the side of Ignis’ mouth to his jaw, chin, and down his neck. Ignis was completely transfixed at the sight of Gladio feeling and tasting his skin, feeling all at once dense and heavy like lead, as if he were sinking into the bed and could disappear into it at a moment’s notice, and light, like he was drifting away and floating in a pleasant haze. He marveled at how safe and complete he felt like this once more, how with all of the territorial marks and nips Gladio was leaving on his skin he felt protected, taken care of.

Ignis let out a high moan as Gladio’s tongue grazed his left nipple and Gladio laughed softly against his skin. His hot breath washed over him and Ignis shuddered. So this is what it was like to be with someone so affectionate—was this normal for so many people?

“Gladio…” Ignis’ voice trailed off as Gladio’s tongue slowed. Gladio brought himself back level with Ignis’ face once more, and Ignis lazily draped his left arm across his back, holding him in place. Carefully, Gladio lowered himself back onto his side as he was in the beginning, slotting himself comfortably against Ignis as if they’d been doing this their entire lives, and rested his forehead against Ignis’.

Ignis closed his eyes, but he could feel Gladio looking at him. He didn’t want it to be over, whatever this was.

“You too tired?” Gladio murmured, and Ignis could practically taste his words, his mouth was so close. His voice was raspy but even-keeled, casual, not demanding or disappointed. Ignis’ lips curled into a small smile, despite himself. If this was indeed a dream, it was a good one.

Ignis nodded ‘no’, his forehead rubbing against Gladio’s. Gladio dipped in and placed another kiss on Ignis’ lips, as soft as the others but with a new sense of intensity behind it. Gladio’s hands were on him an instant later, palms rough and hot working their way all up and down his back and chest. Ignis opened his eyes, relieved to find Gladio hadn’t just evaporated into thin air, or transformed into some hideous monster. He bent his head down, finding Gladio’s neck and dragged his lips across the stubble there. It was rougher than he’d imagined it being, but not unpleasant by a longshot. Ignis’ left hand, meanwhile, slipped between them and found Gladio’s left pec. The musculature was firm in his hand, searing hot, and perfectly smooth—not even the faintest dusting of chest hair. His thumb brushed over his dark nipple, eliciting a low groan from Gladio.

All at once Gladio pulled Ignis closer to him, hand firmly planted on his lower back, and held him close as he sat up in the bed. Gladio pulled Ignis squarely into his lap facing him, Ignis’ legs bent on either side of him, knees and shins pressed into the mattress. Gladio’s hands slipped down to Ignis’ hips, fingers pressing into his soft skin through the thin fabric of his boxer-briefs.

Ignis looked down and saw the bulge contained in Gladio’s underwear, laughed a little uneasily to himself. “Gladio.”

Gladio rubbed his thumbs reassuringly into Ignis’ hips. “Yeah?”

“If this is an apology for before, I’m not sure I want it,” Ignis whispered. He didn’t know where the sudden hesitation was coming from, but he knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if they continued with that as a pretense for everything; that Gladio was humoring him as payment for the night before. Even if this was a dream, Ignis didn’t want his subconscious fears poisoning it.

Gladio brought his forehead to Ignis’ once more. Ignis swore he could feel Gladio’s lashes on his as he blinked slowly. “I know.” But his thumbs didn’t relent on Ignis’ hips. He shifted his hands slightly so his palms could get a feel of Ignis’ ass, fingers toying with the hem of his underwear and slipping underneath it. “Are you saying you wanna stop?”

Ignis quickly shook his head ‘no’. Gladio let out a soft, breathy laugh, then gave Ignis a reassuring kiss. “Okay.”

Gladio raked his right hand over the top of Ignis’ thigh, and dipped over onto his cock, already tenting his boxer-briefs. Ignis moaned at the contact─they had barely begun, yet the intensity from just Gladio’s sweltering palm was enough to make his heart beat like a jackhammer. Gladio palmed him eagerly, coaxing Ignis’ cock to get fully hard. Ignis gripped Gladio’s shoulders to keep himself upright, eyes transfixed as Gladio dipped his hand under the waistband and wrapped his fingers around his shaft.

The sensation was electrifying. It was completely different from touching himself. While the act itself was nothing new, a foreign hand, the way it lingered or twisted or tugged, the varying speed and pressure, the nuance, was a string of one delightful surprise after the next. Ignis gave in to it all, lowering his forehead to Gladio’s shoulder and whining into his flesh. He was absolutely enraptured at the sight of Gladio working his cock in measured strokes from root to tip. Ignis let out a breathy gasp as Gladio swirled his thumb over the tip of his cock, already red and shiny, wicking down the thick bead of precome that had formed there down his shaft.

Not content to simply let himself be toyed with, Ignis slipped a hand into Gladio’s underwear and pulled out Gladio’s cock. It was just as he remembered it in his hand, swelteringly hot, stupidly large and full in Ignis’ hand. Ignis gave it a confident tug, spellbound by the sight of both cocks below him. Gladio nuzzled his cheek against the top of Ignis’ head, groaning at the attention. Gladio’s hand worked faster, stroking Ignis’ cock in quick, harried jerks. Ignis picked up his pace, too, in time with him, occasionally twisting his wrist just so over the red tip of Gladio’s cock, smearing the accumulated precome down his entire length.

Both were crumpling into the other, reduced to panting and moaning heaps as they worked one another, the room full of the illicit sounds of wet skin on skin and their harried breaths between them. Ignis squeezed his eyes shut; Gladio’s calloused hand on his cock was almost too good to be true, and he couldn’t help but cant his hips up to meet Gladio’s strokes, craving as much friction as he could possibly get. He wrapped his left arm around Gladio’s back, fingernails digging into his flesh, seeking anything to hold onto for dear life.

Ignis came first, spilling over into Gladio’s hand. Gladio stroked him through his orgasm, his cock twitching and pulsating as Gladio milked every last drop out of him. Overwhelmed, Ignis’ hand on Gladio’s cock lost its controlled rhythm as the tremors rattled his body, and by the time it was over he was left a shuddering wreck, face buried in Gladio’s chest.

In one swift movement, Gladio nudged Ignis down on his back and draped himself over him, his legs slotted on either side of Ignis’ right thigh. Gladio kissed and sucked on Ignis neck as he finished himself off. Ignis felt the slightest twinge of guilt, not being able to bring Gladio over the edge like he’d done for him, but the warm and fuzzy bliss he was still riding out combined with the sight of Gladio stroking himself so furiously made up for it. Gladio came shortly after, hot come painting his hand and Ignis’ stomach. Gladio just stayed there, panting hotly on Ignis’ neck as he tried to regain some semblance of normal motor function.

Ignis reached for Gladio’s face and gave his jaw a gentle stroke. A part of him feared now that they had both gotten off, if the dream would end and the magic would fade. He hoped it wouldn’t, not yet.

Gladio collapsed in a heap next to Ignis as his breathing continued to slow. They continued to stroke each other gently and affectionately, light touches up arms and down chests. Gladio idly smeared the puddle of come he’d made on Ignis’ stomach, leaned down and kissed Ignis’ shoulder.

“That’s about the sexiest thing you could wear.” His voice was husky from exhaustion and it made Ignis’ head spin. Ignis looked down at him and blinked, not catching his meaning. Gladio chuckled and dragged his index finger up Ignis’ chest, trailing through his come and streaking it upwards. “This.”

Ignis couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing, but didn’t miss the way the tips of Gladio’s ears flashed red. His laughter was infectious, though, and soon enough Gladio joined in, too.

Their laughter died down shortly and was replaced with a comfortable silence. Gladio pulled himself up a bit higher than Ignis and encouraged Ignis to curl around his side and rest his head on Gladio’s chest. Malleable, Ignis complied and closed his eyes, utterly content.

Ignis closed his eyes and felt one of Gladio’s warm hands on this head, gently stroking his hair. He said a silent prayer that he wouldn’t forget this dream once he woke up.

\---

It was dark when Ignis next awoke. It took him a moment to realize where he was, in the shitty motel room on the shitty, sunken bed. He took in a deep breath in and frowned at the mildew smell. Yep, definitely still here.

It must be before dawn, he thought. He’d have to get up soon and wrangle something up for breakfast; Noct would be hungry.

Ignis rolled onto his side and let out a contended sigh. Despite his apprehensions about their quarters for the night, he’d had the most restful night of sleep he’d had in weeks. Ignis nuzzled his cheek into the pillow. He knew he had to get up, but his body was fighting him. Lazily, he cracked open an eye, and found Gladio lying on his back next to him, reading with the dim light from the lamp on the nightstand. He was still shirtless, but had found a pair of sweatpants, which were hanging low on his hips.

Gladio glanced down at him and folded the page he was on before closing his book and setting it aside. “Hey.”

Ignis looked up at him, still caught up in a drowsy haze. Then it hit him like a lightning bolt. The night before, and even more than that—the care and affection Gladio had shown him. The blow job, that definitely happened. But the other stuff? That was just a feverish hallucination, right?

Ignis shot up and scooted to the foot of the bed.

“Whoa there, Iggy.” Gladio drew himself up and folded his long legs in. “You with me?”

“I, ah...” Ignis’ eyes flicked around the room, from the crumpled sheets to his duffle bag on the floor, to the uneven slats covering the only window. If it was a dream, why was he acting so antsy? There was no reason to be so alarmed, but from Gladio’s (and his own) state of undress, he began to doubt his dream hypothesis. “What time is it?”

Gladio looked over to the clock on the nightstand by him. “Just after eight. You were out all day.”

Ignis screwed up his face, trying to account for the lost time. “Uh...”

“You look a lot better, y’know.” Gladio let out a soft laugh. “Dunno how much I had to do with it, though.”

Ignis sucked in a sharp breath through his nose. That actually happened. “I thought it was something you picked up from training..? One of your rules of survival..?”

“Oh, I mean...” Gladio picked up his paperback, the spine well creased. “I did read about it in a book.” Only then did Ignis notice the cover, a strapping, shirtless man with long flowing hair was tearing open a supple and large breasted woman’s bodice─a tawdry harlequin romance.

Ignis curled his long legs into his chest and rested his forehead against his knees. Maybe if he squeezed his eyes shut really tight, it’d all go back to just being a dream. He could feel Gladio’s weight shift on the mattress, accompanied by that shrill squeak of the coils underneath, and the subsequent warmth of Gladio’s hand on his shoulder.

“You okay there, Iggy?”

Ignis mumbled something into his knees. More than they had fooled around twice in the span of twenty four hours, the implication that Gladio had actively sought him out, wanted him, and was still here, hours later, was almost too much for his addled mind to take. He could feel his face and ears were red hot, and this time he didn’t have the fever to blame.

“Hey, Iggy, talk to me. If you want me to fuck off, just say so. It’s cool.”

Gladio pulled back his hand, giving Ignis some space. But with Gladio’s quick retreat, Ignis somehow felt worse; a repeat of the unreturned kiss that started everything.

“I didn’t think you wanted me.” Ignis lifted his head, searched Gladio’s expression for any hint as to his inclination either way.

Gladio’s brows screwed together in confusion. “Why’d you think that?”

_Oh, I don’t know, the fifteen odd years of you never looking in my direction? Or maybe we can just start with you immediately falling asleep after I blew you, take your pick._

Gladio seemed to read Ignis’ mind and laughed sheepishly. “I was waiting for you to come back, but I fell asleep.” He scratched the back of his head self-consciously, eyes darting away from him. “You really did a number on me.”

If it were possible for Ignis’ face to get even redder, it did. “Oh,” he replied rather lamely, suddenly finding the fine hairs on his knees more interesting to look at than Gladio’s face.

“I didn’t know you were interested in me, like that.” Gladio scooted closer to him. “You, ah, took me by surprise.”

Ignis couldn’t think of anything to say in response, so he just sat there, hugging his knees for the time being. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, per say, but it was laced with a hint of unease.

“We can pretend none of this happened, if you want,” Gladio said slowly, as if trying to coax any kind of response from Ignis. “We can go back to what things were like before. And Noct, I mean, he’ll always come first.”

Ignis nodded. Noctis. He _would_ always come first, and part of him was relieved that Gladio had confirmed that. But still, just because Noct was the top priority, that didn’t necessarily mean Ignis (or Gladio for that matter) couldn’t pursue some bit of his own personal happiness, right?

But before Ignis could get carried away, he had to make something clear first.

Ignis looked up, finally meeting Gladio’s gaze. “Be straight with me. Why do you think I did that last night?”

“Because you wanted to..?”

Ignis gave a slight nod. “And why did you do what you did this morning?”

“Because I wanted to..?”

“But why?”

“What do you mean, ‘why’?”

“I just want to know. Why did you do it?”

“Okay, what’s up with the twenty questions, Iggy?”

“I need to know.”

Gladio huffed, flustered under Ignis’ pressing. His eyes flicked away from Ignis to various points of the room as he spoke. “I did it because… I dunno, before last night I didn’t know there was… anything between us. But, uh, y’know, you swiftly proved me wrong. And I guess, waking up next to you like that… I wanted to get you off, too.”

Ignis hummed at his answer, pleased, but not entirely satisfied. So he didn’t physically repulse Gladio, clearly, that was good, but…

“So what are you proposing, then? Where do we go from here?”

Gladio brought his gaze back to Ignis. “Like, I dunno, something where we can blow each other when the mood strikes?”

Ignis exhaled deeply through his nose. In his wildest of dreams, that sort of arrangement might have been enough. Just the knowledge that he was desired in that way, that he was appreciated in that way. It might have satisfied him. But after the amount of tenderness that Gladio had shown him? The whole idea of sex without that, without any emotion behind it, lost its appeal.

Ignis ran through all the reasons why he should just nod and accept Gladio’s suggestion, how surely in some way it _would_ give him some satisfaction. But he couldn’t. While Ignis had been through enough in the past few hours, he knew he couldn’t just trip up right at the finish line.

“If it’s alright with you,” Ignis’ voice was soft, but his eyes were fierce, “I think I’d prefer… quite the opposite, actually.”

“So… I should fuck off then?”

“No, no, I mean…” Ignis’ voice trailed off as his cheeks flushed pink. “We can do _all of that_ , but, with that other business, too.”

Gladio cracked a grin. “Oh? What ‘other business’ are you referring to?”

Ignis sighed, exhausted by this game already. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“Nah, I don’t think I do.” Gladio brought a hand back to Ignis shoulder and jostled him slightly. “C’mon.”

Ignis pushed himself towards Gladio and their lips met. It took Gladio a second to catch up, but he returned the gesture, pulling Ignis in close. Ignis pulled back before long and smiled up at him. “ _That_ business.”

Gladio cracked a grin. “Okay. Yeah.”

Ignis’ heart was racing, and part of him still couldn’t believe that this was real and happening. If he was being honest with himself, he couldn’t believe Gladio, the stupidly handsome hulking guy that he was, actually felt something towards him. It seemed impossible, like they were leagues apart. But he swallowed that fear down for now, opting instead to just trust Gladio and relinquish his twisted, childish dislike of him once and for all.

Ignis twisted to the side and his feet found the carpet. He stood and went to get dressed, slipping out of Gladio’s hold, trailed by Gladio’s eyes.

“Why’re you getting dressed? Don’t you wanna, like, y’know?” Gladio waggled an eyebrow suggestively.

Ignis laughed dryly to himself as he slipped his arms into a clean shirt. “As tempting as the offer is, I’ve been off my feet for long enough. I should check on Noct.”

Gladio sighed and lied down on his back, stretching languidly. “He’s fine, Prompto’s fine. They’re capable of looking after themselves from time to time.” He patted the bed next to him. “You know you wanna.”

Ignis cocked an eyebrow at him, surprised equally at just how forward Gladio could be and how much he wanted to indulge him.

“No telling when we’re gonna stay at a ritzy place like this again.”

He had a point there.

Ignis slipped off his shirt (no sense in getting it wrinkled) and draped it over top of his bag. He then crawled back onto the bed and slotted himself next to Gladio, as if they’d been doing this all their lives. They had roughly twelve hours before they’d depart in the morning, so they still had plenty of time to continue feeling each other out... Ignis shifted, frowned when he felt the crusted remnants of Gladio’s semen on his stomach and chest. Dismayed but not entirely put out, Ignis nestled his cheek into Gladio’s chest and Gladio brought an arm around his back. Were it anybody else, he might have been willing to trade a few of those remaining hours for a proper hot shower, but with Gladio holding him so close, he was able to stave off that ingrained need to get clean a little while longer.

They would need to have a thorough discussion about Gladio’s affinity for marking him later, though.


End file.
